


The Silver Fix

by Mayonayys



Series: The Hult Family [1]
Category: Original Work
Genre: Eventual Romance, F/M, Mentions of Slavery, Racism, Sexism, Supernatural - Freeform, Supernatural Hunters, Vampires, Werewolves, Witchcraft
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-06-02
Updated: 2020-06-02
Packaged: 2021-03-03 21:35:48
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,701
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24502483
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Mayonayys/pseuds/Mayonayys
Summary: In 1835, Evelyn Hult runs away from an oppressive engagement. Out in the real world now, she realizes that her engagement is not the only oppressive thing that needs fixing in this world. She is met with the fear and existential crisis of knowing her family is on the wrong side of history. They are the oppressors to those that are different in this world, that they had a large part in building the empire of it in the United States.She finds new friends hidden among those she was trained to hunt and stumbles across kind family she never thought she would meet. They must tackle a terror that her family unknowingly helped create, then find a way to help bring peace and equality to the different species residing in their country.**Set in a pre-civil war type of state. Since supernatural are a 'minority' group in the setting, they are largely targets of racism. I want to be clear that 'supernaturals' are not coded as Africans, or other real life minority groups. If I unintentionally do so, please tell me. I have not decided on the best course of action regarding the topic of slavery. If anything I write seems tone-deaf, let me know.More explanation in the notes of Chapter 1!
Relationships: Original Female Character/Original Male Character
Series: The Hult Family [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1770361
Kudos: 2





	The Silver Fix

**Author's Note:**

> This story focuses on an old RP character I fell in love with. I've decided to develop her a story on my own, instead of being disappointed by fizzling out RPs. I'm going to do my best to put up a small chapter each week, as I will be filling prompts from over in my discord. I will likely have to do chapters in between prompts, to get in all the details I want.
> 
> Evelyn's family are a group of supernatural hunters, descended from generations of hunters who went from enslaving supernaturals, to wanting them to go extinct.  
> Supernaturals tend to be targeted by how different they look in this world. While I've only tagged werewolves and vampires, there will be many other kinds. From pixies to always-furry-cat people to witches who look just like humans. Hunters utilize a magic of their own, but most might consider themselves very different from a person who uses outright witchcraft.  
> The Christian God is also a subject that is different in this world. Hunters will reference God, use Holy Water, and brandish silver crosses, but the worshiping of God is not like it is in the real world. The 'natural' power that Hunters have is something they worship in itself. Many different species will have their own God they worship, or denounce gods entirely.  
> I am using the real world as a catalyst for my own world. Major events that happened in the real world will correlate to some major event that happened in my world. Such as the American Revolution. A Civil War is also brewing,.
> 
> There will be POC in this. They won't all be servants or slaves, many will be main/side characters, or will have been mentioned to have been/be hunters. Most will just be random, ordinary people in the world. Some supernaturals will be POC, but you won't find things like 'all werewolves are native american'. At the moment, I am unsure of how I should handle slavery of POC in this story. I don't believe that the whites/majority of olden days would have just forgone oppressing POC/human minorities just because there was some other group to oppress... As history seems to have been a clear indicator of, our majority group seems to love oppressing all minorities... I am leaning towards not including it, or it having been a part of history at this point.  
> I don't want to be insensitive, or tone-deaf. If you have an opinion on the matter, lemme have it.
> 
> This story is also unbeta'd

She was safe for now, certainly. Green eyes scanned over the bustling marketplace, she blended right in. This town was quaint, unassuming, and she’d never even heard of it. Surely they wouldn’t look for her here. 

She honestly didn’t expect to make it this far east, not so quickly at least. She just needed space. And time. Time to think about what she was to do about her mess of an engagement. 

She wanted to make her family proud, she loved them and knew she owed them that much. But a marriage to some English fancy boy just wouldn’t do. The marriage wouldn’t make her parents proud, anyways. She knew Hector wasn’t fond of the idea either.

She doesn’t really recall them asking her opinion on the matter, not formally at least. They asked Belinda’s opinion of course, always making sure she was comfortable with things. And of course she was, she was much more pleasant that Evelyn had ever managed to be, at least when it came to stuff like this.

Belinda was likely so compliant because her fiance wasn’t a rat of a man. She also knew Belinda was anxious about finding a good husband, she always thought her condition would keep anyone of good stature away. Of course, anyone who sat down with Belinda for more than ten minutes would see instantly she was the brightest thing in any room, at any given time. And they were right to think so.

Evelyn scoffed at her thoughts as she pushed her way through the crowded street. She couldn’t imagine what her sister and mother would think of the situation she had put herself in. All just to get away from the weasel of a man, Wigbert Pratt. Even his name was hideous.

She could feel the dust basically caked on to her skin. That's what happened when you rode for three days straight and the only bath you’ve had was a wipe down by a creek with a handkerchief. 

Finding lodging here wouldn’t be too hard. The town was a decent size, she had already seen a fancy new hotel near the end of main street, but she needed somewhere a little cheaper and discreet. Plus, she wasn’t sure they’d let her in looking like some creaton from the woods.

“Oi!” A thickly accented voice called out near Evelyn, “Oi, ma’am. Ye there in them trousers!”

Evelyn’s pace faltered, her eyes flickering to the side to see who was calling out to, presumably, her. It wasn’t very likely that many other women had donned pants that day.

A tall, tan faced man was waving, unmistakably beckoning her to his rickety little market stall. “Yea, ma’am, ye just make yer way ova, ‘ave a look see, yea?”

She thought about shaking her head and refusing, but the man grinned and continued to wave her over.

She cleared her throat when she approached the stall, adjusting her well worn luggage bag in her petite hands. “What is it, sir?” She gave him a onceover, then gave his stall one. He seemed to be selling garments.

“Ah, ma’am yes, as you seem to have yourself in quite the state here.” He gestured up and down at her, but took his cap off and pressed it to his chest, “I imagine ye might be in the market for the  _ finest _ garments on this side of the Mississippi.” His claims made Evelyn want to scoff, she knew all the finest dress makers this side of the Mississippi, this man was not on that list.

“Oh yes, only the most beautiful clothing for a southern belle such as yourself, ma’am.” Another man seemed to pop up from behind the stall, surprising Evelyn.

Evelyn was a bit flabbergasted by the men’s weird sales tactics and before she could even get a word in, the tall man lifted a pale blue skirt from his stall.

“Aw, yes, ma’am, ye’d look like a bright ‘lil thing is this here beautiful  _ golden _ trimmed skirt.” He gestured dramatically to the garment.

“It’s real gold, innit Mr. Evans.” The man behind the counter bobbed his head up and down in a nod.

“Ah, yea Arty, you’re right it is.” Mr Evans shook an approving finger at Arty.

Evelyn barely even had to glance over the thing to see its lackluster quality. There was even a hole between the stitches up at the waist. And the gold strim looked more like coffee stained, unevenly trimmed, cotton strips. It was atrocious to say the least.

“Forgive me, sir.” Evelyn began her rejection kindly. “But I really must dec-”

“Oh, but ma’am ye must see for yerself.” Before she could react, the man grabbed her hand and made her feel the skirt. She let out a loud gasp when he did so, never having someone jerk her hand like that, especially not some strange man out in a market.

Upon contact, the hair raised on her arm, she brushed it off as being appalled by the situation.

“Ah yes, its velvety, innit ma’am.” Arty chirped up as he made his way around the stall to stand beside Mr Evans.

“I’d usually charge a price of, say… ten dollars, for a fine piece of work like this.” Mr Evans scratched his beard as he seemed to think.

“Ten dollars for this atrocious thing?” Evelyn couldn’t contain her shock as this, obvious, con man spouted off. “This thirty year old hat is worth more than those scraps!” She grabbed the old, worn, leather hat of her grandfathers out of the side pouch of her bag, shaking it in his face.

The next thing she knew, Mr Evans had snatched the hat from her hand. “A trade then, is it?”

“No give it back!” Evelyn lunged forward to grab the hat, but Mr Evans pulled back, handing the hat off to Arty.

She felt a panic rise in her chest, she couldn’t lose her grandfather's hat, especially not to these two bozos.

“Oi, this is really nice here, Mr Evans.” Arty turned the hat round in his hands, looking over the stitching and the brand inside. 

Evelyn dropped her bag on the ground stepping forward to the pair, as Mr Evans and Arty moved around the stall. “A trades a trade, ma’am.” Mr Evans shrugged to her, tossing the ratty skirt in her face.

“Like hell it is!” Evelyn yelled out at the man, throwing the skirt to the ground and stomping over.

As soon as she rounded the stall, a knife was pulled, the tip mere inches from Evelyn’s abdomen. Arty glared at her, “the hat’s ours  _ ma’am. _ ” Evelyn could have swore she saw the mans eyes flicker to an unnatural color, but shook her head and took a small step back.

Then she felt it again, this time stronger. The unmistakable, hair raising feeling of one of  _ them _ nearby. She had felt uneasy when she got into town, but had assumed that was just the jitters of running away from home.

“Tell Grandpa Hult we appreciate the little gift.” Mr Evans said nonchalantly as he held the hat up, looking at her through the corner of his eye. She knew then that she saw correctly, his eyes were a striking yellow.

She took another two steps back, Arty lowered his knife slightly, they obviously thought she would give up.

Evelyn pushed back her coat, pulling out a vial of shimmery liquid from one of the many inner pockets. Before they could react, she tossed the liquid onto Arty. He led out a hiss of pain, dropping the blade from his burning hand.

Seeing what she had done, Mr Evans turned to run, back through an alleyway behind the street stalls.

Evelyn may have been tired earlier, but she felt a new wave of adrenaline running through her veins, she’d get her hat back.

Mr Evans was fast, there was an obvious reason why. The wolf bastard couldn’t run forever, though.

He was almost out of her sight, after turning around a few buildings, she thought she might have lost him. But finally she broke free from the cover of the tall town buildings, to see a field of green that Mr Evans was running across. 

“Like hell you’re getting away…” Evelyn murmured under her breath. Pushing her coat back once again, she pulled out a shiney, long revolver. Doing this, she’d have to likely deal with the aftermath, but it would quickly clear up once the townsfolk saw what he was, then she’d have to find another town to hide in.

She pulled back the hammer, and just as she did Mr Evans looked back at her, even from a distance, she saw fear in his yellow eyes, he had messed up. Her finger hovered over the trigger, as she was about to pull it, another figure came from Mr Evans’ left. A young man tackled him to the ground, the two of them tumbled around for a moment, Evelyn’s hat being discarded in the scuffle.

She lowered her weapon, quickly making her way over to the hat, as the young mystery man tried to gain control over Mr Evans. As she grew closer, she once again felt that hair raising feeling. It was stronger now, though. She narrowed her eyes at the pair as she grew closer and snatched up the hat from the ground.

She got a glimpse of the younger man's hands, his claws were apparent. If she were her father, or uncle, she would be about to claim two trophies. But she didn’t have time for that, and she would admit, she was thankful for the younger ones interference. She’d thank him by stowing her gun and not speaking of his identity to anyone in town. 

She needed to get back into hiding. If there were three wolves here, there were probably, many more.

She was also curious as to how Mr Evans and Arty knew the hat was her grandfathers, or who he was. She’d need to ask questions when she was inevitably caught by her parents.

Evelyn hightailed it back to the market. She had to get her bag and head back to the stables, she needed to leave.


End file.
